Page 49 of Just Business

“Thanks, Mike. I’m sure you did a great job.” He tips his head and turns back to his shop, throwing a greasy towel across his shoulder as he goes.

Penny watches me pocket the slip of paper, shaking her head. “I don’t know how I feel about you doing this.”

Swallowing hard, I say, “Well, that’s not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Don’t get me wrong, this is so sweet and thoughtful. But I’m not used to someone doing things like this for me. I’ve been fine walking everywhere until I save up the money.” Penny starts walking around her car, running her hand up the hood. “This is the last real gift my dad gave me. I’d never really cared if I had my own car or not since we walked around town half the time anyway, but when I got my scholarships to Alabama, he was so proud and kept saying I’d need a way to get around. On the morning of my graduation, I walked into the kitchen and he was standing there holding the keys. He had one of those enormous red bows on it and everything.”

She smiles to herself, thinking back at the memory. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate this. Thank you, truly. This means a lot,” she says in earnest.

We drive over to the hardware store to grab the paint, then head to her house to unload. She’s quiet on the short drive, and when we pull up to her house, she doesn’t cut the engine immediately.

“Austin?” she begins. Unease washes over me at the tone of her voice, the same feeling I always get when I can tell someone is about to call me out on my bullshit.

“You know I’d still like you even if you didn’t spend money on me, right? I know the other night you said you never know who’s using you for money and who isn’t. I don’t know if some sort of pattern formed or what. But you don’t have to buy me. I’m in this with you.”

Her words strike a nerve that she doesn’t even realize was there to hit. Cassie always says the same thing. She’s told me over and over I have a pathological need to be liked, and now that I have money, I use it to try to make people like me. Growing up I figured people liked me because I was good at sports. I won games for my team. In college I was the cool guy with the guitar. Emotions roil inside me. Do I realize I’m enough without spending money on people? Honestly, I’m not sure.

“Yeah, Penn. I do,” I say, climbing out of the car to get changed for a day of painting. That’s all the response I can muster right now.

I quickly change into old clothes that I won’t mind getting ruined by paint splatters, and head back downstairs to get to work. Penny meets me in the driveway, and I’m surprised to see she’s also wearing paint clothes with her hair pulled up and looped into the back of a University of Alabama ball cap. She smirks at me as she eyes my Texas Longhorn hat.

After our conversation in the car, I’m not feeling too playful. Instead of returning the smirk, I walk over and snake my arm around her waist, tugging her against me. Surprise flashes in Penny’s eyes, but she quickly catches on when my mouth lands on hers. She’s turning me inside out, and I don’t know what to do with it. The only thing I know right now is that I’m all in with her.

She’s the first to pull away, a puzzled look in her eyes.

“I’ve still got a lot of work to do on myself. I just want you to know I’m trying.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon painting in an easy silence. There’s no pressure to fill it, and if she’s anything like me, we both have a lot on our minds. She has her phone hooked up to a speaker with ’90s country playing as we paint, me cutting in the edges, and her doing the broad strokes with the roller.

Greg and Lisa live outside of town in a two-story white farmhouse that sits on ten acres of land. Behind it is a large garden that keeps all of our refrigerators stocked with fresh veggies this time of year. Greg receives a steady flow of royalty checks from the songs he’s played on, but despite that, he doesn’t lead a lavish lifestyle. He’s still a simple man.

Liam has a house further back on the property he built a few years ago, but it’s usually empty when we aren’t recording.

Greg and Lisa have two other kids—Madison and Thomas. Madison and I were friends tangentially since our families were so intertwined, but she was introverted, rarely interested in the partying that Josie and I got ourselves into. Liam is the typical middle child, always into some kind of mischief, so he and I were much closer. Thomas lives in Nashville, and when Liam isn’t here he usually crashes at Thomas’s house and hooks up with half the city.

When Austin and I arrive, we’re greeted by their golden retriever, Lucy. She comes bounding up, her tail wagging enthusiastically, her rear end shaking from the movement. She hits him with her paw, indicating she wants him to pet her. He bends to give her his undivided attention, scratching her head and up and down her back with his big competent hands. Hands that I’m sure would be good at other things too.

“Do you have any pets?” I ask, distracting myself from that train of thought.

“Nah, I’m not home enough for a pet. My aunt had outdoor cats when I was a kid, and now they have a dog. She’s a shelter rescue named Gracie. When life slows down, I think I wouldn't mind having one of my own, though,” he answers while Lucy licks every inch of his face.

Suddenly, Liam’s dog hobbles next to Lucy, yapping and wanting his share of the attention. Austin looks up at me, his eyes wide and a lopsided grin forming. Belatedly, I think to myself that I probably should have prepared him.

“So, Muttley Crew here belongs to Liam.” Muttley is so old we’re not sure how he’s still alive. He was a stray, so no one actually knows his age, but Liam has had him for twelve years, so we know he’s at least older than that. He’s missing a front leg, his black fur is falling out in patches, and his tongue juts out of one corner of his mouth because most of his teeth are missing.

“That's a good one—Muttley Crew. I like it.” Austin kneels to give Muttley some head scratches, and looks up at me. “I like this guy. He’s got grit. If he could talk, I bet he’d have some stories to tell.”

Austin finally drags himself away from the dogs and we head inside. We’re greeted with a flurry of commotion as everyone bustles around, stirring pots on the stove and setting the table. It seems like everyone’s made an effort to be here to celebrate the album. I even hear Jackson and Liam’s voices drifting in from the back patio where Greg is grilling steaks.

Everyone has brought a dish of some kind, and we set it all out buffet-style on the large island, and Greg comes in with a platter of steaks. Once my plate is piled high, I head to the dining room. They have a long table that seats twelve, with a leaf that we’ve occasionally had to put in when we need more seating. Greg built it specifically for family dinners.

I sit next to Austin, and Abby rushes to claim the seat on his other side. My phone buzzes in my lap, and I look down to see a text from Josie.

Josie

You better watch out or Abby’s gonna steal him from you.

I smile and put my phone away, shooting Josie an amused look across the table. Abby’s crush is cute, and he’s being so sweet to her, asking her about school and her friends. She asks him what his favorite song is and his answer hits me straight in the heart.

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